


Next of Kin

by Helen8462



Series: Farley x TJ [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lower Decks, Original Characters - Freeform, Tom is good at keeping secrets, Voyager RP, early years, sickbay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/pseuds/Helen8462
Summary: After a minor disaster, Tom uncovers a little secret.





	Next of Kin

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr there is a wonderful group of Voyager RP blogs. Two of them are [Tricia Jenkins](https://juniortjenkins.tumblr.com/) and [Farley Jakobsdottir ](https://farleyjakobsdottir.tumblr.com/)who happen to have a sexy little affair going on. (And of course, there's [Tom Paris ](https://thebestparisyouhave.tumblr.com/) who knows all, sees all). The RP (and this relationship) is fantastic, I'm hooked. This story was written with support from all of their moderators.

I’ve been here for a few hours; it feels like a few days.

I’ve never done well in silence.

Sickbay is dim. Kes has returned to her quarters for some much-deserved sleep. Doc saw fit to release all but one of our patients before deactivating himself in the name of power conservation. Aside from the unmoving form on the biobed, I’m all alone.

Not even the hum of the warp engines is present to distract me. My mind wanders.

Things were bad today.  But they could have been a lot worse.

A sneak attack by the Kazon left us with hull breaches on decks 8 thru 10. Hardest hit were the science labs and a few unlucky crew quarters. There were dozens of bumps and bruises, a couple broken bones. One crewman needed surgery, she is my only company and not much of a conversationalist, seeing as she’s still unconscious.

It’s times like these I’m glad that I’ve got more to contribute than just being able to steer this boat. Not a whole lot of use for a pilot when we don’t have functional engines, and fittingly, that’s almost always the time we need medics. Maybe the captain was onto something when she assigned me here.

I have to find something to do other than pace so I head to the supply closet behind Doc's office to refill a pile of depleted medkits. That’s when I hear the main doors swish open.

“Doctor?” a soft voice asks. I close the case in front of me and head to see who’s come, silently hoping they feel like making small talk.

A slender figure moves towards the bed where Ensign Jakobsdottir lies in sedated silence.

I’m about to announce myself but something makes me pause. Despite the low light, I make out a command red uniform, pale skin, short blonde hair. I know this person well.

It’s Jenkins. Our night-shift helmsman. Nice girl. Smart, eager, not bad to look at either. She reports to me, trains under me. I wonder what she's doing here, then I remember, she was the one driving when the attack occurred. She must have come out of guilt, or maybe...

This is the point when I should ask if there’s something I can help with, but then, she’s clearly not seeking medical treatment. Maybe my motivations aren’t entirely innocent, but I’m inclined to just give her a moment.

Tentatively, she glances around, then she checks the panel above Jakobsdottir’s pillow. Not much information to find there, steady lifesigns, that's about all. Realizing as much, she bows her head and whispers something I cannot – should not – hear.

It’s when she brings her hand to the ensign’s forehead, brushing locks of golden hair behind her ear with loving care, that I stop myself mid-gasp.

In my head there is an audible click and suddenly it all comes clear. There have been glances, half-heard comments, wry smiles. Of course… Paris, you idiot. I retreat back into Doc’s office, allowing her privacy and check something on the computer.

Next of kin. I’ll be damned.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Jenkin’s form begin to move towards the doors.

“Ensign!” I try to stifle my shout. She freezes and stares at me, wide-eyed as if I’ve caught her in some kind of forbidden act.

“Lieuten- Sir – Paris,” she stutters. “I was, um, I was just –“

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I say coolly, my feet leading me half the distance to her. “Doc’s offline but if you need him I can –“

“No,” she interrupts. “No, I just came to see… to make sure everyone was okay.” I can hear the resignation in her voice. “I heard there were injuries.”

“The others have been discharged, a few bumps and bruises. Jakobsdottir took the worst of it.” I can see her swallow. There’s no easy way for me to tell her that her friend – the woman who I’d bet the house is her lover – almost died, but I won’t sugar coat it either. “She had a broken clavicle, two fractured ribs and a pretty serious concussion. Doc operated to stop a small bleed in her brain, I wasn’t here, but I understand it went quickly.”

I wouldn’t think it possible, but Jenkins actually grows more pale. “She’s gonna be fine though,” I quickly reassure. “Doc has her unconscious until some of the swelling goes down. She should be awake sometime tomorrow.”

“Good, that’s good to hear.” Jenkins bites her lip and chances a look over her shoulder at the bed. When she turns back to me, something about her demeanor has changed. Her eyes lock with mine. “Why are you telling me all of this? Aren’t there rules about patient confidentiality?”

I knew she was smart. This is a test.

“Ah, well. I know what it’s like to feel guilty when the ship takes damage. It wasn’t your fault, you know. If anything, you saved us from a lot of extra damage with that beta-six. I saw the logs, pretty fancy flying.”

She stares at me for a moment. “Thanks,” she says finally, relaxing.

I've passed.

“And as for the confidentiality thing… we’ll keep it our little secret, okay? I don’t need Doc mad at me.”

She nods and breaks the smallest smile.

“Well, I should get back to the medkits,” I say, motioning to the supply room.

“And I should be… somewhere else too.”

“You know, I understand that people under sedation can sometimes benefit from company. Technically visiting hours are over, but if you wanted to hang around –”

“I… I shouldn’t,” she wavers, shifting her feet. Clearly, she’s wrestling with something that’s more than just the choice of whether to stay or go. It’s a decision she should make in private.

“Do what you want,” I reply, retreating towards the back. “Just be gone by 1600 when Doc comes online or you’ll get us both in trouble.”

She’s out of view now, and though I don’t know definitively that she’s stayed, I have a hunch.

I ask the computer to play some soft music and swear that I won’t spy again. The medkits don’t take long to finish, then I meticulously check the remaining inventory against the log. When I can’t stand to stay in the storage closet any longer, I pad softly back to Doc’s desk and glance out just long enough to see Jenkins holding her lover’s hand.

It’s another hour at least before there are footsteps retreating towards the door. Out of instinct I look up and her eyes lock with mine. She smiles at me and demurs in a silent thank you.

The doors close behind her.

A minute later, Doc appears in the middle of sickbay. “Mr. Paris?” he calls. “Anything to report?”

My shift is officially over.

“Nope. All’s quiet on the western front,” I say, collecting myself to leave. “Oh, but Doc, do me a favor?”

“What’s that, Mr. Paris?” he asks, diligently scanning his only patient.

“Let me know when the ensign wakes up?”

He eyes me quizzically and I look to the form on the biobed. “A friend stopped by, I’d like to let her know.” 

 


End file.
